


we're safe within these walls

by bluejayblueskies



Series: TMA Fantasy Week [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fantasy, Ficlet, Fluff, Gentle Kissing, M/M, Selkie Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Selkie Martin Blackwood, TMA Fantasy Week (The Magnus Archives), Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 11:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30021372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejayblueskies/pseuds/bluejayblueskies
Summary: The air smells of salt, in the little house they’ve settled in next to the sea.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: TMA Fantasy Week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2208423
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	we're safe within these walls

**Author's Note:**

> written for tma fantasy week for prompt 1: sea
> 
> cw for brief mentions of past captivity and panic attacks

The air smells of salt, in the little house they’ve settled in next to the sea. It greets Martin when he wakes early in the morning, clings to him all the way to the little village further inland and mingles with the scent of old paper and glue, and welcomes him home with open arms when he slips on his skin and disappears beneath the white-capped waves.

Jon, too, smells of salt when he wraps his arms around Martin from behind, rests his chin on Martin’s shoulder, and says softly, “Good morning.”

“Hey,” Martin says, twisting his head so he can press a kiss to Jon’s temple. “Sleep well?”

Jon hums, which Martin takes to mean _as well as can be expected._ The nightmares that plague Jon are frequent and vivid, born from a past of stolen skin and captivity, and Martin has grown well-practiced at holding Jon when he wakes at night and stroking his back as he remembers how to breathe. Now, their skins are hung by the door, cast in iridescence as the midday sun hits them, and the anxiety at not having them hidden away has faded into the knowledge that they’re _safe_ here, in the home they’ve made for themselves.

“I made tea,” Martin says, nodding his head toward the steaming mugs to his left. “And the eggs are almost done.”

Jon hums again and murmurs a quiet _thank you_ into Martin’s shoulder before untangling himself from Martin and retrieving his mug of tea. He cradles it between his hands and takes a long sip, wincing slightly at the temperature. The sleeves of his jumper— _Martin’s_ jumper, actually, though at this point all of his jumpers might as well be Jon’s jumpers—cover the tops of his hands, and the collar has slipped to the side, revealing the shadow of Jon’s collarbone.

Martin abandons the eggs for a moment and leans over to press a soft kiss to Jon’s lips. Jon makes a surprised noise, and when Martin pulls back, he says, “What was that for?”

Martin shrugs and pushes the eggs around the pan once more before taking them off the heat. “Nothing.” Then, with a smile teasing at the corners of his lips: “I just thought you looked rather beautiful this morning.”

“Flatterer,” Jon says, his smile audible, before pressing a soft kiss in return to Martin’s lips.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos make my day! if you liked what you read, let me know 💛
> 
> find me on tumblr [@bluejayblueskies](https://bluejayblueskies.tumblr.com/)


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